After the War
by neverendingpast
Summary: Elladan, Elrohir, Ataraastald, her sister...yeah. Read it, not slash at all, please review!
1. Default Chapter

CHAPTER ONE- Waking up to a nightmare

In the middle of a field of corpses, Ataraastald's eyes suddenly opened. She was an Elf, a Ranger, a woman...but that was all that she knew at the moment. She tried to sit up and look around, but her body ached and her arms felt too heavy to pick up. Her head swam and she drifted in and out of consciousness. Once she was awake enough to realize that she had no idea where she was, she turned her head and looked beside her to see at least a piece of her surroundings. There she saw an Orc with a cloven head lying next to her. Immediately awareness returned, and she realized that she was lying in the middle of the Pelennor fields. She had participated in the War of the Ring, and had fought long and hard against Sauron's forces. Her bow had sung, and her sword had gleamed, but she too had been hit. A black-feathered arrow stuck out from her left shoulder, her raiments were slashed in many places, and there were open wounds all over her body. 

She realized that the fighting had stopped, but did not know the outcome. Many shapes she could see moving in the darkness of her clouded vision, but her eyes were too weary to discern whether they were friend or foe. Suddenly a face appeared above her. She recognized her good friend Elrohir, and exclaimed, "Elrohir! Vedui!" She winced. "Can you...help me, friend?"

He smiled in relief that she was alive. "Yes! Astaraastald, we have been looking for you! Many are still unaccounted for." He bent down and carefully picked up his friend.

She was suddenly worried. "Elrohir! Where is my bow? And my sword?" He laughed. "Those have already been found. Worry not. But we must get you help, you are wounded!"

She spoke in a weak and weary voice. "Yes, I am. You are here, walking freely...so the Ringbearer succeeded?"

"Yes. The Ring is destroyed."

Atara sighed in relief. She then mumbled, "My shoulder...it..." and fainted.

Elrohir cursed. He realized that the _yrch_ had poisoned their arrows. He walked swiftly to his horse, put Atara on, and mounted behind her. He rode to the tents where the wounded were being tended to. Aragorn was helping, and Elrohir walked to him and said, "My Lord, Atara has a poisoned arrow in her shoulder and many other wounds. She fainted a few minutes ago." Aragorn led Elrohir to an empty cot, and he put Atara down.

Aragorn looked her over and walked away. He returned with clean cloths, athelas, and a bowl of steaming water. He put the plant in the water, and began to staunch her bleeding wounds. He said to Elrohir, "Pull out the arrow. It is better to do it while she is not conscious, it will not hurt her that way." Elrohir was wary, but he did as he was told. He grasped the foul arrow and pulled it out. Luckily it was straight-tipped, with a thin head and no barbs. Aragorn gave him a cloth, and he pressed it to the wound. The scent of the athelas was already strong in the tents, but Aragorn could still smell that the bowl was ready. He removed some of the plant and put it onto her wounds. He also cleansed her dirty face with a cloth soaked in the warm water, and he washed anywhere else that was exposed also. He left the bowl of water by her, knowing that even the scent had marvelous medicinal properties.

Elrohir sat on the ground by his friend, awaiting her awakening. The fragrant scent of the athelas refreshed and heartened him. Soon he was light of heart and smiling. Then suddenly Ataraastald's eyes opened. He heard her murmur "Elro...the...my...", and he moved to kneel above her. "I am here, Atara." he said, knowing that she was finally awakening. She blinked and said, "Elrohir, I feel terrible. That arrow...was poisoned...wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was. But Lord Aragorn applied athelas to it, and to all of your other wounds. It is drawing out the poison as we speak, and you shall be fine."

She felt her stomach convulse, and she turned her head to the side of the cot that Elrohir was not on and retched. Elrohir gasped, and then went to get water to clean her mouth. She still felt queasy and aching, as she had never felt before. She had felt extreme fatigue before, but nothing of this magnitude. Elrohir returned with a bowl. "Atara, can you sit up?"

She tried, and could, but she could not stay in that position. He put his hand behind her back, and let her drink the water and spit it out to rid her mouth of the acid taste left by the vomit. "Thank you, Elrohir."

"You're welcome, my friend. So I take it you're not going to be moving much today?"

She laughed. "Actually, I feel better after that, but no, I'm so exhausted...Elrohir, how many of us made it through?"

"Most of us. We fought well and felled many foes, but a few of us were also hurt. Elladan is fine, and so is Aragorn, obviously."

She smiled in relief. "That is good. Now I may rest in peace...but is Calagwaew also alright?"

"Yes, your fair horse led me to you, and then she ran back here before you could see, for she has some wounds that need tending. She will be fine, do not fear."

With that she passed out of consciousness once more. Elrohir covered her with a warm blanket and walked to another cot so that he could also rest.


	2. MenelIthil is found

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CHAPTER TWO- Menel-Ithil is found

Aragorn walked restlessly about the camp, surveying those who were wounded, and looking for those he had not yet seen. He noticed that Atara's sister, Menel-Ithil, had not been found as of yet. She was the last missing. He immediately sent three other Rangers out to look for her, worrying all the time that she would be another casualty of the war. 

The rescuers came back in less than thirty minutes' time. The one who had checked the western part of the field carried with him a lifeless body. It was Menel. Aragorn turned away and wept. By the clean lines from their eyes on their dirty faces, the scouts had done so also. Menel-Ithil was laid on a cot and looked over. She had an arrow in her stomach and a small orcish blade in her chest. Aragorn sighed and then blessed her. Her cot was then placed with the others those who had fallen. Aragorn then went to Elrohir's cot. Seeing that he had wakened, he said, "Elrohir...Menel-Ithil has fallen. As if Atara's day has not been horrible enough...now she must be told that her sister is dead."

"Menel? But she was as good a fighter as any of us...how could she have..." his words broke off, his expression clouded, and he wept. He had been close to both girls, and he had loved them like his own sisters. "She cannot be told yet. She must sleep now. But when she wakes, I will tell her, as I too was close to Menel. Where is she, so that I may see her?"

"She is in the tent with the rest of the fallen. She lies under a blanket bearing the crest of her house."

"Hannon le, Aragorn." He walked slowly to the tent, knowing the horrors that lay there. All of the Dunadan were very close, and he wished that not so many had fallen. Only a small portion of their forces had been felled, but even that many was very hard to bear. He looked for the blanket with the crest, and when he saw it, he bent over it and wept. He prayed for her and then he left, overcome by the grief. Supposing that Atara would awaken soon, he went back to sit by her. 

Atara slowly opened her eyes. She felt slightly refreshed, and she felt that she could probably move her body. She turned her head to look around and was startled by Elrohir's face.

"Ah, you're awake!" He said, trying to smile, but it was overpowered by the look of grief in his face.

"Yes...what is wrong? Something is very wrong, I can see it in your face!" She was suddenly overcome by fear and foreboding.

He felt it best to get it out as quickly as possible. "Atara," he said, a tear forming in his eye, "Menel-Ithil is...dead." The last words he choked out, because the sorrow was unbearable.

Atara's eyes watered and she hid her face in her hands. All of her sadness dissolved into tears, and her body was fiercely wracked by sobs from the bottom of her soul. Through her tears she began muttering unintelligible things in Elvish, prayers, curses, and various words of sorrow and remorse. Somewhere in this Elrohir discerned "If I was there...if I had stayed with her...oh..." He could not stop crying himself, but he moved to embrace her, to comfort her, to know that he shared in her sorrow. The other Rangers in the tent left them alone, grieving alone in their hearts, knowing better than to interfere in the soothing session. 

"Shhhhhh, Atara...it was not your fault. The weapons that killed her were laid next to her cot, and one of them was an arrow. There was also a dagger. You may not have been able to save her even if you were there." 

"Do not say that! I could have...she would be alive if I had been there."

"Atara, you were fighting too! You were injured. It is not your fault."

The two sat weeping into each others' arms for a long while after. Elladan walked in on the two weeping, and he wondered what had happened. He found out from another Ranger that Menel had died. He went to join the embrace of his brother and friend, because he and his brother had grown up with the sisters, and they all had been very close friends. The three stayed in this healing embrace for some time, until Atara's body stopped shaking and all three had finished crying. Then they all stood up. The brothers walked Atara over to her cot so that she could rest more, and then they walked around aiding the other wounded. 

Atara lay in her bed, still feeling remorseful, feeling that she could have saved her sister. She also knew that Elrohir's words were true- she may not have been able to help anyway. So she turned her head and silently wept until she fell asleep.


	3. The Strength To See the Truth

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CHAPTER THREE- The Strength to See the Truth

Atara woke up. Now she finally had mustered the strength to go and see her sister. She walked with leaden feet, her usual light step weighed down by the grief that she was feeling. The tent where the dead were laid out was black, and as she entered she could feel the death and sorrow trying to consume her. Suddenly her eyes snapped over to a blanket with the emblem of her house emblazoned upon it. Slowly she approached, dreading that which was underneath it, not wanting to see it, to have such final proof that her beloved Menel-Ithil would never walk with her again.

Time seemed now to still around her. All that she could see was that blanket. She walked to it, bent down, and slowly pulled it back. Her hand shot to her mouth to cover her own scream of "NO!" Her eyes flashed wide open, and then her face clouded over. For under that blanket, as she knew there would be, was her sister, her face pale as the niphredil flower that grows in the Golden Wood, but marred by streaks of dirt and blood. Atara held in her sorrow and continued pulling the blanket down. She saw the deep puncture in Menel's chest, obviously from the fatal dagger's thrust. Her raiments were stained in may places with trails of dark blood. Atara recovered Menel-Ithil's body and said (have to change this, it's not right, it says 'may THEY find peace after death'...) "Hiro hyn hidh ab'wanath." Then she walked back to find solace with Elladan and Elrohir.

She wept again as she walked towards them. "I saw her. I saw my poor sister's body." she said in an anguished tone. Her face was twisted again, in sorrow and rage at the ill fortunes of her day. She was injured, why could she not have died? "It would have been simpler that way," she thought to herself. Her parents had disapproved of the sisters becoming Rangers...why then should they even mourn for her sister? Little did she know that they were already mourning. Atara's mother had a crow fly discreetly over the girls at all times. He had seen Menel fall and had immediately flown back to Mirkwood. He told Atara's parents within minutes of her knowing.

The brothers embraced her again. Too many thoughts to count were running through Elladan's mind. There had always been a deep connection between the four Elves, but always Elrohir and Atara had been very close, as had Elladan and Menel. Now their quartet was missing a member. Among other things, the four had loved to sing together. It was perfect, for Ataraastald had a high voice, Menel-Ithil's was medium, Elrohir had a wonderfully normal male voice, and Elladan's had a deep tone. They were much respected by those for whom they had performed. And, of course, their wonderful and harmonic voice relationships were wholly reflections of their actual lives. They all loved each other dearly, and they got along very well. Atara's parents had been close friends with Elrond and Celebrían when the children were born, and so they all became friends very early in life. 


End file.
